The perfect shoe: it's not for two.
It works for me, but not for you.
The last time I bought a pair of running shoes, I took along a friend who is not a runner. She seemed baffled by my evaluation of each shoe that I tried on. I asked questions about each pair, making comparisons based on fact and feeling, comfort and credibility. My last thought, as I made my purchase, was how the shoe looked.
Like I told my friend, if I'm going to spend so much money on one pair of shoes, it sure as hell better last me a couple hundred miles (at least), whether it sparkles, shines, shouts, or shimmers. The perfect shoe for a runner is one that bounces back with every step you take, can handle the heat and holler of every terrain, compliments your arches, hangs onto your heels, stabilizes, neutralizes, or controls the motion of your foot (depending on your foot type), and helps correct your gait (the way you walk, or run). Furthermore, the perfect shoe for an athlete depends on the types of workouts one conducts: speed, long distance, on the road, on the track, on the field, with a jump or a leap, cutting, sliding, kicking, and on and on and on.
When I run, I don't even want to notice that I'm wearing shoes. I've had shin splints far too many times to trust just any shoe or brand. Just like people, the prettiest shoe isn't always the nicest. My shoes are like armor, protecting me against the evils of the running world, the mighty stress fractures, the dreaded Iliotibial Band Syndrome, and the ferocious, ruthless, merciless runner's knee, while providing the flexibility and breathability that my toes and feet desperately need. As materialistic as this may be, your running shoes should become a part of you, otherwise you'll find nagging issues with them, particularly blisters.
Every foot is different, like snowflakes!
Monday, May 28, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
The smells of life
What's your favorite smell?
It's amazing how many smells are out there--on the road, in the fields, on the track, in a house with a mouse, or a box with a fox. I couldn't help myself. But seriously, just the other day, I re-realized how full of smells life is. I've heard that smell is one of the strongest memory "strikers," for lack of the real term. I believe this with all my being.
Any true runner can tell you that there is a smell for each running season. I can't describe the smell of track season or the smell of cross country season, but they are definitely distinguishable. Even being a retired collegiate runner, I still find myself walking out the door or to class and thinking, "Ah, the smell of (track/cross country) season!" And there's almost nothing more appealing to me.
On my run the other day, I attempted to count the smells I encountered, but instead I can only recall these: freshly cut grass; the humidity (yes, it has a smell); a rotting animal hidden in the brush; laundry detergent, chlorine, pancakes, and garbage as I ran through a residential neighborhood; dust and dirt; cattle and manure (I live in Stephenville...); my own sweat; a port-a-potty near a construction zone; pine and other trees; more.
One of my least favorite smells on a run is food--all kinds. There's little more sickening to inhale on a run than the smell of freshly-baked doughnuts or greasy hamburgers or fried anything. I've even had to adjust some of my routes to avoid these fragrant curses during prime eating hours. And the dumpster truck! When I see one, I turn, whether I break from my route or make it longer. I believe The White Gazelle can attest to this.
My favorite smell, whether running or otherwise, believe it or not, is the smell of roses. I'm sure most, if not all, of my readers know that I'm not the girliest gal out there, but roses provide a refreshing scent that can calm my mind...and stomach.
Next time you work out, or even the next time you simply go outside, try to distinguish as many smells as you can. It could be like bird-watching! Keep notes.
Smell you later.
It's amazing how many smells are out there--on the road, in the fields, on the track, in a house with a mouse, or a box with a fox. I couldn't help myself. But seriously, just the other day, I re-realized how full of smells life is. I've heard that smell is one of the strongest memory "strikers," for lack of the real term. I believe this with all my being.
Any true runner can tell you that there is a smell for each running season. I can't describe the smell of track season or the smell of cross country season, but they are definitely distinguishable. Even being a retired collegiate runner, I still find myself walking out the door or to class and thinking, "Ah, the smell of (track/cross country) season!" And there's almost nothing more appealing to me.
On my run the other day, I attempted to count the smells I encountered, but instead I can only recall these: freshly cut grass; the humidity (yes, it has a smell); a rotting animal hidden in the brush; laundry detergent, chlorine, pancakes, and garbage as I ran through a residential neighborhood; dust and dirt; cattle and manure (I live in Stephenville...); my own sweat; a port-a-potty near a construction zone; pine and other trees; more.
One of my least favorite smells on a run is food--all kinds. There's little more sickening to inhale on a run than the smell of freshly-baked doughnuts or greasy hamburgers or fried anything. I've even had to adjust some of my routes to avoid these fragrant curses during prime eating hours. And the dumpster truck! When I see one, I turn, whether I break from my route or make it longer. I believe The White Gazelle can attest to this.
My favorite smell, whether running or otherwise, believe it or not, is the smell of roses. I'm sure most, if not all, of my readers know that I'm not the girliest gal out there, but roses provide a refreshing scent that can calm my mind...and stomach.
Next time you work out, or even the next time you simply go outside, try to distinguish as many smells as you can. It could be like bird-watching! Keep notes.
Smell you later.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Self-sufficiency? Yeah, right.
It's been over a year since I've run competitively. And it's been over a year since I have even had a consistent running/workout routine. I used to be so self-disciplined, or so I thought. Maybe I don't give my coaches and teammates enough credit. Sure, it was my choice to stay on the team and therefore get up at the crack of dawn for a workout and then again later in the day. But now that I have no team or coach to report to, I find it that much harder to get up early, to start a daily routine (for more than one week at a time), and to give a 100% effort when I do hit the pavement.
I'm not stupid: I knew this would be the case, as it is for most athletes when they leave the team setting. But it has come to my attention just how important a team can be in the development of an athlete. First of all, the commitment to my fellow runners held me in place. Without knowing that my teammates were nearby, struggling as I was, I wouldn't have lasted long after junior high. And since we were all hurting in our own ways, we could count on each other for encouragement and understanding.
Second of all, until last September, I've always had a coach to push me toward success. Despite minor conflicts and disagreements (and sometimes rude thoughts--in both directions, I'm sure), I owe any success in my past to the determination of my coaches. After all, they were the ones who decided on my workouts, adjusted them as they saw fit, and, for the most part, encouraged me when I sucked.
There are so many things I miss about running for a team: the conversations, motivation, encouragement, the meets, the crowds, bus/van rides, the competition, comradery, ice baths. But mostly--and this is the competitor and pride in me--I miss being a strong runner. I was never the best, but at least I could run three miles in under 23 minutes. At least I could run more than five miles at a time without taking a break.
Boo-hoo, right? I know. I'm not asking for sympathy, but if you're reading this, keep in mind that self-motivation only lasts for so long. Mine died out long before I realized it. As much as we may hate to admit it, we all need someone to cheer for us, to push us, even to criticize us every once in a while--especially for the things we care about most.
Peace out
I'm not stupid: I knew this would be the case, as it is for most athletes when they leave the team setting. But it has come to my attention just how important a team can be in the development of an athlete. First of all, the commitment to my fellow runners held me in place. Without knowing that my teammates were nearby, struggling as I was, I wouldn't have lasted long after junior high. And since we were all hurting in our own ways, we could count on each other for encouragement and understanding.
Second of all, until last September, I've always had a coach to push me toward success. Despite minor conflicts and disagreements (and sometimes rude thoughts--in both directions, I'm sure), I owe any success in my past to the determination of my coaches. After all, they were the ones who decided on my workouts, adjusted them as they saw fit, and, for the most part, encouraged me when I sucked.
There are so many things I miss about running for a team: the conversations, motivation, encouragement, the meets, the crowds, bus/van rides, the competition, comradery, ice baths. But mostly--and this is the competitor and pride in me--I miss being a strong runner. I was never the best, but at least I could run three miles in under 23 minutes. At least I could run more than five miles at a time without taking a break.
Boo-hoo, right? I know. I'm not asking for sympathy, but if you're reading this, keep in mind that self-motivation only lasts for so long. Mine died out long before I realized it. As much as we may hate to admit it, we all need someone to cheer for us, to push us, even to criticize us every once in a while--especially for the things we care about most.
Peace out
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